A Star in the East
by Lady Thigocia
Summary: As a Protestant Christian and daughter of Reynald de Chatillon, Christine hasn't even begun to know what God would ask of her. Warning; Not for Sybilla or Sybilla/Balian fans! Rating is for violence and caution on my own part. HIATUS
1. Prologue

My first fanfic! Comment please! I am giving you a forewarning. I will be working on this slowly. Hopefully, I can upload one chapter per week. However, life may get in the way.

This is not to attack those who love the Sibylla/Balian romance. I would be all for it, if things were done properly and she had waited until her husband died to join Balian through marriage. However, as you know, that is not how it played out.

This is just a note for those who actually are curious about my opinion. I felt that what Balian did with Sibylla was completely out of character. He was supposed to be a good knight and defend the helpless, not start an affair.

Here is a warning for this story. THIS IS NOT FOR SIBYLLA FANS! I never cared for her and still don't. Also, I'm going to be going with her historical character. Did you know that the real Sibylla loved her husband, Guy?

Final warning; THIS IS NOT FOR SIBYLLA FANS!

This is a Protestant Christian story. Do not like, then do not read. Please, no fiery comments from the depths of Hades!

If you notice a problem or contradiction with the historical background, please say something. Since this is counted as a historical movie, I would like to make it so in my fanfic as well.

Enough of my rambling! I do not own the movie or its characters. I only claim my original character, Christine and any other characters that were not in the movie.

* * *

The sweet smell of incense filled the room. A breeze blew against the curtains, bringing in the prayer of the Salah. The door opened quietly, revealing a young maid, followed by an elder. They entered, keeping their movements silent.

Their lady was lying in her bed, her red curls covering the many pillows surrounding her. Her head lay to the side, moaning. She slowly allowed her eyes to open. The bright sun caused her to blink.

"_Boker Tov_," greeted the elder woman, smiling. Her eyes shone brightly, as she made her way to the girl. "You are very late."

The girl's brows furrowed, as she looked towards the balcony. "The sun is rising."

"Indeed. You are _very_ late."

She rolled her eyes, lying back down. "Abigail!"

"No complaining now, my Lady Christine," she corrected, holding up a finger. She pulled the light, silk covers off of her. "The day will fade fast."

"It can stay that way, as long as I do not have to witness it," groaned Christine, her voice muffled in the pillow.

"You have recovered from your fever and now it is time to begin life again."

She sighed, sitting up. "Very well. You win again."

The woman smiled even brighter. "Do I not always?" She gestured to the younger maid. "Aaliyah."

Christine stood, allowing her gown to fall across her ankles. "How is mother?"

Abigail suddenly didn't answer. Sadness filled her face. Her daughter stopped fiddling with the covers, glancing towards her mother. The young girl's eyes widened.

"Abigail," she asked, afraid. "Is mother not feeling better?"

The elder maid slowly sat on the bed. She looked into the face of her young mistress, her eyes sparkling with tears.

"I am sorry, child. I am afraid that she… she is dying."

Christine stepped back, her face filled with horror, shock and grief. Tears were already trickling down the corners of her eyes. She shook her head, before taking off towards the door.

With the speed of lightning, she ran down the hall and into her mother's quarters. Her maids were standing around the bed, their hands together and their heads bowed. The girl ran to the side of the bed and, upon seeing her mother's face, stopped.

The Lady of Kerak lay in bed, sweat pouring down her face in steady streams. Her eyes were shut and her blonde tresses were drenched. She lay with her hands on her abdomen, holding her chain that held the large wedding ring that she called her own.

"Mother," asked Christine.

One of the maids stepped forward, putting a hand on her shoulder. "My lady, you shouldn't-

"It is alright," breathed the girl's mother. She slowly opened her eyes. "Christine?"

She climbed onto the bed, putting her small hands on her mother's arms. "Yes, mother."

"Are you feeling better, dear," she asked, tiredly.

"Yes, mother, much better," she answered, tears pouring down her cheeks.

The woman's gentle, pale hand reached up to catch her daughter's tears. "Why are you crying, dear?"

A sob escaped Christine's little throat. "Abigail says you're dying!"

"Yes," asked Joan, her brows slightly furrowed. "And why is that so troubling?"

The girl's eyes widened. "Mother! You'll be dead and away from me! You can't go, Mother! You can't go!"

"Shh," she hushed, pulling the girl to her chest. "No crying now. No crying." She sighed, tiredly. "Little one, do not be so upset. I will be gone, but I will see you again. Is that not true?"

Christine sniffed, hard. "Yes, but…. Mother, I cannot live without you!"

"You can, dear," she assured. Her eyes closed for a long moment. "You are well cared for by Abigail and the other maids." Her eyes opened. "But you must promise me something, Christine."

She wiped at her tears. "What, Mother?"

"You must promise me that you will always look to God," she breathed. Her talking was starting to slow. "I know that your father is difficult and I know that you are afraid. But, you must trust God to help you."

"But, Mother," she questioned, "what if-

"No, no," she interrupted, shaking her head. "No ifs or buts. God is the one who is Forever and will always be with you. Christine, you must learn this, understand it and meditate on it. Please. Promise me that you will trust in Him and not in a priest, your father… or yourself."

The little girl nodded. "Yes, Mother."

Joan smiled, weakly. A grimace formed, though. Christine sat up, thinking that she hurt her mother.

"Mother?"

Just then, Reynald appeared in the doorway. His red-blonde hair was askew and his armor was not fastened, yet. He practically shoved his way into the room, kneeling down beside Joan.

"Joan," he murmured, afraid.

Christine's eyes widened. Her father was afraid? Reynald de Chatillon was afraid?

The woman rolled her head towards her husband, her movements slow and nearly painful to watch. "Reynald…"

"Hush, now," he murmured, taking her hand. "You're going to be alright. You will see."

She shook her head. "No… I am not… my husband. Forgive me…"

"No, no, no," he pressed, kissing her forehead. "You have nothing to be sorry for, Joan. Nothing, do you understand?"

Christine felt more tears falling from her eyes. Her mother gave a small smile, but then didn't move. Reynald looked down at the hand he held, his eyes growing wide.

"Joan," he whispered, leaning closer to her. A tear fell from his eyes. "Joan?"

The girl noticed that her mother had grown very cold and her eyes wouldn't blink. Christine lay on her mother, sobs escaping her lips. Her father closed his wife's eyes, before getting up and leaving with haste.

\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/

The funeral was private, secret and, surprisingly, not conducted by a priest. Instead, it was by a Hospitalar. He was one of Sir Godfrey's men. It surprised Christine that the lord had actually attended the small funeral. He was silent throughout.

Reynald attended, but he did not make his presence known. He stood cloaked behind the few maids. Christine glanced back, when her mother was being placed into the ground. He returned her gaze, but then walked away.

When the funeral finished, Christine started to make her way back to Kerak, but was stopped by Sir Godfrey. He smiled down at her, sadly, and put a hand on her shoulder.

"I am sorry about your mother, my lady," he said. "If there is anything that you shall ever need or desire, remember Ibelin. You are always welcome there."

She nodded, trying to smile. However, she could not seem to. "Thank you, my lord."

Abigail escorted her back to Kerak. For hours, Christine sat in her room, crying. When there were no more tears to shed, she lay on her bed and stare at the ceiling.

"Why did You take her away," she whispered.

Of course, no verbal answer came. The girl closed her eyes and fell asleep.

\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/

"Lady Joan was a devout Protestant, my lord," explained the Hospitalar. He leaned back in his seat, while Godfrey looked out over his land. "She was also very kind to the other women, whether they be Catholic, Jew or Muslim."

The lord returned to his table, sitting straight in his seat. "Her daughter is so young."

"It is not the daughter that you are truly concerned about, though, is it?"

He sighed, setting his goblet on the wood. "Reynald hid when the funeral took place. He is already bloodthirsty… but now…"

"Tiberias would feel the same."

"We must keep a watchful eye on him. His wife's death has seemed to have grieved him, if that is even possible."

The Hospitalar nodded. "According to the maids, Lady Joan was well loved by her husband. He allowed her to stay away from the priests and bloodshed… as well as obtain the Bible itself."

Godfrey's brows furrowed. "She had a copy of the Scriptures?"

"No doubt from one of Reynald's resources."

The lord leaned forward. "Where are they now?"

\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/

Christine ran a hand over the leather-bound bible, which was old and tattered from travel and time. An inscribed letter was on the front. "J"

"Mother's Bible," she whispered.

Abigail nodded. "She wished me to give it to you, my lady."

The girl lowered her gaze back to the Scriptures. Slowly, her fingers traced out the J over and over again. Her eyes were red from crying and her hair was in disarray. She could cry no more tears, though.

"My lady," began the older woman, tentatively. "I have been a servant to Muslims and Christians alike… and none compared to that of your mother. She was a good mistress… and was one that no man or woman could dare speak against."

Christine only looked at her elder servant. Everything that she said was true. No servant ever spoke against her mother. If anyone did, they were fools.

Abigail soon left, leaving the Lady of Kerak alone.

Silence filled the candle lit room. The breeze blew against the billowing curtains, allowing in even more cool air. Christine wrapped herself in a light blanket, before walking out onto her balcony.

The stars shone brightly that night. The moon was full, spreading its light across the desert. Christine always enjoyed the night, watching the stars glitter. Tonight, she saw even more.

_God,_ she prayed, silently. _You took Mother… but she wasn't afraid. She was ready to be with You. Now that she's gone, it will be me that has to take her place. I don't know if I can._

With a maturity that was beyond her years, the girl continued.

_Make me the woman that you wish me to be. I give myself to You. I am in Your hands._

Author's Note; Comments, please! This was a long chapter, but do not expect the others to be so long. Like I said before, my life is crazy! Anyways, I would like to hear feedback. Also, does anyone know of a good name for the Hospitaler? I think I have one, but would like to hear others' opinions.


	2. Dinner in the Palace

_Eight years later…_

Reynald de Chatillon watched the remaining knights enter Jerusalem. Rumors of another Templar raid would soon reach Tiberius. It could not be helped. That was the way of it. Until this leper king passed, there would be difficulties in cleansing this part of the world from its pagan sin.

No doubt, Tiberius would be angry. No, enraged. The thought of him angry and unable to do anything…well, Reynald chuckled.

Yet, there was another problem that he was to deal with. This time, it hit too close to the weak link in his armored heart.

Christine was sixteen years of age. It was time that she was wed.

The thought of choosing a husband was of no delight to neither her nor Reynald. Although he wanted alliances, Reynald would not do so by using his daughter as prize. She was not to be treated that way. There would be no arranged marriage for her

… just as it was for Joan.

"My lord."

He turned, facing a Templar soldier.

"Lord Tiberius summons you."

Duty called.

/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/

"She should be wed to a prince in Europe. She does not belong here in the world of war."

The maids busied themselves in the kitchen, cleaning up after preparing the morning meal. The two younger ones were quiet, while the elders spoke rather boisterously in their points.

"No," interrupted a Muslim servant. She shook her head and wagged a finger at the other servant. "No man in Europe would fit her."

"But no man would here, either," pointed out a Hebrew woman. "These Templers cannot be trusted with a gem, such as Lady Christine. She is too precious to be used and then cast aside."

They nodded.

"Agreed," sighed the Muslim servant. She stoked the fire. "The man must be trustworthy."

"He must also be willing to care for whatever he possesses," added another. "No man who doesn't care for his own property, servants or whatever he can hold power over will never care for his wife."

Again, there were nods and murmurs of agreement.

"Lord Baron is a good man," suggested another maid.

Scoldings were sent in the woman's direction.

"The man is a pig," complained the Hebrew woman. "How could you even think of sending Lady Christine to him?"

"Lord Tiberius seems to think that Lord Baron-

"Lord Tiberius should not count in this discussion!"

"But Lady Christine respects him, even though he despises her father and her. She may approve of a man that the Lord Tiberius would."

They waved her off.

"If Lord Godfrey wasn't so old, I would suggest him," admitted another Muslim. "He is very tolerant with other religions. I heard that he even spoke highly of Lady Joan."

"God rest her soul," added a Christian, quietly.

"Everyone spoke highly of her, though," pointed out a Hebrew. "Who would not? As for the Lord Godfrey, you are right in that he is too old. If Lady Christine wishes for children, she will not wed him."

"Surely her father has already named a husband," questioned one of the quiet maids. "Shouldn't he be the one to decide-?

"Bite your tongue, girl," hissed the older Muslim. "That man could not choose a right husband if he stood in from of him! Lady Christine shall have to decide on her own accord, it seems."

The Hebrew woman stopped her work of wiping off plates and bowls, to look at the maids. "Lord Reynald seems unwilling to wed her to another."

"He would not send her to a convent, do you think?"

"I do not know what he might do… only that he has more on his mind than that of his daughter."

Silence filled the kitchen.

/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/

Aaliyah straightened the covers on the bed, as she glanced over at her mistress. Christine was sitting at a desk, reading her daily Scriptures. It surprised the young Jew at how her mistress was able to read Latin so well. Lady Joan was only able to teach her a little, when she was living.

"Is there anything you wish me to do, my lady," asked Aaliyah, standing straight.

The red-haired girl looked up from her reading and smiled. "Yes, that will be all, Aaliyah. Thank you."

Before she could even move, Christine stopped her. "Oh, Aaliyah! You have not told me of your fiancé. Is he well?"

She blushed. "He is. He will be leaving for Kerak, as soon as he is able."

"I'm sure he will go soon," assured her mistress, seeing the slight worry. "He has a good reason."

Again, Aaliyah blushed. "Thank you, Mistress."

The servant left, as her mistress sighed and stood. She made her way towards the window that overlooked Jerusalem.

She would have returned to Kerak sooner, but her father had returned from who knows where. He was called to see Tiberius. This was not a good sign.

Normally, Reynald was also invited to dine at the king's table. Christine never joined him. She was glad of it. Tiberius did not trust her and she did not blame him. He could not trust anyone that had ties with her father… that's what pained her the most.

She always had to be careful with Reynald's temper. When she spoke to him, it was very quick to the point and never about war and battle. It would only provoke his anger. She had seen his wrath and wanted to avoid it as much as possible.

Her gaze turned towards the entrance to the building. Templar soldiers rode into the courtyard, halting to wait.

Christine quickly put on a silk veil that covered her head and went downstairs. When she reached the courtyard, she realized that it was Guy de Lusignan. He dismounted from his horse, his cape following him.

"Ah, Lady Christine," he greeted, giving a bow. "It is always a delight in seeing your beauty."

She gave a curtsy, seeing past his "charm". "What do we owe this pleasure, my lord?"

"I wish to speak to your father," he answered, looking around. "I heard of his departure."

Her brows furrowed. "I was not aware of his absence."

"He must not have reached you, then," he said, passively.

Reynald left and he did not tell his daughter. Christine couldn't help but feel hurt. She had never been left by herself in Jerusalem, before. It was not that she wouldn't have the servants. However, she was usually told to return home with a guardian. Apparently, that was now over.

Guy continued. "I shall speak with him on a later date then." He mounted his horse, but still stayed. "Perhaps you would be able to dine with us tonight, Lady Christine, in your father's place."

This was not what she wanted, but she knew that an invitation from the princess's husband was not to be turned down without dishonor. She gave another curtsy.

"I would be an honor, my lord," she said.

He chuckled. "So polite. Farewell for now, my lady."

With that, he rode off, his men following him. Aaliyah came running over, as well as a girl. They stood beside Christine.

"We only received word of your father's departure a moment ago, mistress," explained Aaliyah. "He left for Kerak after his words with Tiberius."

She sighed, giving a nod. "I suppose that was for the best."

"Will you attend the dinner, then?"

Christine gave another nod. "Yes. Be ready to depart tomorrow, though. We will leave at dawn. I wish to return to Kerak, soon."

"Very well, my lady," said Aaliyah, bowing.

As her servants went to prepare for travel, their mistress whispered, "Perhaps sooner, if dinner goes awry."

/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/

Christine had chosen to wear a light blue dress that was made of Saracen linens that fell to her ankles and rose to her first collar bone. Her hair was nearly hidden under a white veil and silver circlet, while she wore a silver cross on her neck.

With the escort of two Templar knights, she rode to the palace. It was crowded in Jerusalem, as usual. There was never a day when it wasn't. There were always new arrivals from all over the world, wishing to be in whichever holy place they thought was holier.

She rode through the gate, into a courtyard, where Templars were hung that afternoon. A shudder ran through her, at the thought of it. A servant stepped towards her, as she dismounted with the help of a guard.

"This way, my lady," he said, willing her to follow him.

He led her through some hallways, which then led to an inner courtyard of white stone. Music played on one side of it, while servants busied themselves and the lords and ladies talked amongst themselves.

"The Lady Christine, daughter of Reynald de Chatillon!"

A few heads turned. Some nodded, while others just looked away. Christine swallowed, sending a silent prayer of courage. After a moment, she stepped into the courtyard.

The Father of Jerusalem was present, speaking quietly to a lord and lady. It was surprising that the girl wasn't intimidated by him, considering that he was the leader of the Catholic Church on this side of the kingdom. However, she did not usually make contact with him, which was most likely what he wanted.

Lord Tiberius was present, of course. He gave her a most sour look, as she entered. She only lowered her head from his gaze, as she walked towards the table.

Strangely enough, Sir Godfrey's Hospitaler was there. He and a few others were already sitting at the table. He smiled at Christine, as she sat.

"My lady," he greeted, standing to give a courteous bow. "It is been too long."

She gave a smile and nod. "Yes, it has. I am surprised that you recognize me."

He sat down beside her, still smiling. "You appearance is that of your mother, my lady. It is not difficult to know who you are."

A blush crept on her cheeks. Joan was a beautiful woman. Christine had heard men tell her that she was lovely to look at, but she just saw them as obligatory statements. Comparing herself to Joan was a surprising and great compliment.

The other men and women sat at the table. The Father stood, raising his arms to give a blessing over the food. Christine silently thanked the Lord for the meal. She was most likely the only one who did so.

Some of the ladies and lords she knew and others she knew very little about. The young man sitting beside Lord Tiberius, she did not know at all. In fact, she had never seen him before. For some reason, she felt very… warm inside, when she saw him. He looked up at her, causing her to drop her gaze immediately.

"The Princess Sibylla of Jerusalem and her husband, Guy de Lusignan!"

Everyone stood in respect towards the princess. Guy led her to the seat, at the head of the table. When she sat, the others did so. Guy then sat beside Christine.

"I see you took my invitation, my lady," he said, giving a charming smile.

She only nodded. "I did, my lord."

Tiberius spoke up. "So, how many knights did you find in France?"

Guy rolled his eyes and poured some wine into his goblet. "Fifty."

"They've sworn allegiance to the king," questioned Tiberius.

"Of course, Tiberius, obviously."

Christine glanced at the Hospitaler. He didn't look convinced either. She knew very well that Guy had brought Templars from France and that they would only answer to the Pope, if it came to it.

"You sit at my table?"

She was chewing on a fig when Guy questioned the stranger. Obviously, they met before.

"Is it not the king's table," asked the young man.

"Is it? I have not seen a king at it in some years."

She nearly choked. Guy was always so blatant with his statements. Even if he meant it for fun, he spoke disrespectfully about the king often.

"I cannot eat," he said. "I am finicky about company. In France, _this_ could not inherit. But here, there are no civilized rules. I have business in the east."

He stood, smacking away a servant who had been holding the back of his cape. He stood behind the princess's chair, leaning on both sides of it.

"My wife does not lament my absences," he stated, looking over the table. He ran a finger across the back of her neck. "That is either the best of wives, or the very, very worst."

Christine had always felt sympathy towards the princess. However, she also knew that the woman loved her husband whole-heartedly. She looked as if she was hurting at the moment, but other times she would cling to her husband on her own accord. It confused the girl as to the princess's intentions.

"Do you go to meet Reynald," questioned Tiberius, watching Guy begin to leave.

The man turned. "No, my lord. He is in disfavor. I am a member of this court. Why should I make league with that… troublemaker?"

Tiberius shot a look at Christine. "You see fit to be in company with his family."

He threw his goblet to a servant "Ah, but there are very different reasons for one to visit a young woman and to ignore the boisterous opinions of her father." He gave her a bow. "Lady Christine."

She only returned his momentary gaze. He then left. An uncomfortable silence was over the table. Tiberius raised his goblet, smiling at the princess.

"To the very best of wives," he said.

She smiled, raising her own and saying, "God bless Jerusalem" in Saracen. Everyone else murmured the same phrase. They all began eating again. Christine was slightly relieved that Guy had left, but was still in the company of Tiberius. He kept his eye on her every move, as if waiting for her to reveal a dagger and stab the princess in the heart.

"I hear you were the one who killed a lord of Syria," said one of the other lords. He looked towards the young man beside Tiberius. "Is it true?"

He nodded, solemnly. "It is."

Another lord furrowed his brows. "You are the son of Godfrey, then?"

"Yes."

Christine's widened. Godfrey had a son? The older lord had been killed in France, last she heard. Where had this son come from?

"A lord of Syria is quite a feat," replied the first lord. "I am surprised that Saladin has not declared war on us already."

"It is only a matter of time," muttered Tiberius, "with crazed lunatics, such as Reynald, in authority."

"Should not the Templars do what is necessary for the glory of God, my lord," questioned the Father. "Surely, even someone such as yourself, would agree that there is much evil out in those dunes. It must be dealt with."

"When the evil outnumbers the few, that is when one must consider alternatives, Father," rebuked Tiberius. "One must protect the followers."

"But one must also see to his duty to the Pope."

Christine could barely contain her inner battle between the two men. She agreed and disagreed with both parties. She only looked down at her empty plate, waiting for the right moment for her to leave.

Conversation continued. As it did, a guard whispered to Tiberius, who then looked at the princess.

"The king would see Godfrey's son."

He was about to stand, but she stood before him. "I will take him."

Godfrey's son stood, glancing at Christine, before following the royal.

The rest of the dinner went by quickly and soon everyone was preparing to return to their own homes and rooms. Christine stood, the Hospitaler helping her. He started to walk with her, as she made her way to her horse and escort.

"His name is Balian," said the Hospitaler.

She looked at him, slightly confused. "Who?"

"The son of Godfrey," he answered, nodding back towards the table.

"Oh," she replied, blushing. "I see."

He smiled at her, making sure to walk by her side. "Do not concern yourself with Tiberius. He suspects everyone but the king himself."

She nodded. "I understand his caution. One must always be on guard."

"Perhaps… but perhaps one should open their eyes to the allies that are in plain view."

Christine mounted her horse, ready to depart when she stopped at a realization. She turned to the Hospitaler.

"Forgive me, but I have not inquired about your name."

He seemed surprised. "No one has really inquired about it before." He chuckled. "William."

She smiled back. "Farewell for now, then, Sir William."

He gave a wave, as she returned to the house.

Author's Note; Comments, if you please!


	3. Return to Kerak

The next morning, Christine and her servants, along with a guarded escort, made their way out of Jerusalem. They would be able to reach Kerak by nightfall, if they rode hard enough. The servants seemed ready to return home.

"You ride even faster than I do, Aaliyah," chuckled Christine, attempting to keep up with the servant. "One would think that you are in a hurry to return to Kerak."

The servant lowered her head, hiding a smile. "I am, Mistress. I heard word that Joshua left early this morning. He could arrive at Kerak before us."

"Ah, now I understand." She looked out on the desert. "Abigail will be waiting intently, I am sure."

"She is always concerned for your well-being, Mistress," said Aaliyah.

"For you and the other servants also," added Christine. "She has a kind heart."

"Indeed."

Just then, horses rode past them. Their riders were soldiers from Jerusalem. There was only a few, though and they were not the Templars. Christine narrowed her eyes, trying to see who it was.

To her surprise, the son of Godfrey was riding with the men. He was dressed in armor and had his helmet removed. His dark hair blew in the wind, as his horse galloped forward.

The girl lowered her head, as he passed. It was rather embarrassing to have a man catch you staring at him. This was something that she did not want.

At the same time, she almost wished that he would look at her. He was soon too far away to be seen. She shook her head, growing confused with her more selfish thoughts.

_Lord, why am I feeling this way? I do not know what these feelings and silly notions are, but please have them stay away, if they are displeasing to You. _

After a moment, she broke out of her reverie to pay mind to the road ahead. The sun was beating down on them, without mercy. Christine had been told of snow and how it is cold, when snow comes. She wished that she could see it and feel it. Although she was used to the heat of Jerusalem, it was still difficult to live in.

Joan had told her of snow, once before. She used to live in France, until she wed Reynald and went to live with him. She was sixteen then, as well.

Christine knew that she was of age to marry. She was not so naïve. However, she did not wish to wed at the moment. She would not know who to marry, on account of being in disfavor. No one would want to be with her. It was not that she blamed them either.

Deep down, it hurt her. It was difficult being an outcast and unappreciated. If Christine ventured even further, she realized that she wished to have someone to speak to and to love. It was not that she did not speak to her servants. Many of them were dear friends that had been with her for years. She only wished for something else.

She did not allow herself to think this way often, though. She considered it a waste of time and tried to think of more important matters. It was not often pleasant to.

In days such as those, though, nothing was.

\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/

Reynald drank down his wine, greedily. This was his favorite and Guy had been kind enough to bring several crates of it, during his time in France. The lord of Kerak sat at the head of the long table, as Guy stood near the balcony.

"Ah, the texture," sighed Reynald, looking into his goblet. "Such art is not found out here. I do envy you in your travels."

Guy walked back to the table, sitting. "If one of us does not stay here, my friend, this world will fall into chaos and Saladin will rule this land, which belongs to us. Already, his allies are surrounding the king and plotting against us."

"Ah, you speak of Tiberius and Godfrey's son… what was his name? Balian?"

"Yes," growled Guy.

"Pay no heed to him," assured Reynald. "He will surely not be a bother."

"The king holds him in high favor."

"The king holds many in high favor, my lord. The boy will be of no concern. After all, he is a pilgrim in a strange land. Much can happen with the dry heat and thieves that await their victims."

The lord slowly nodded. "Very well. When do you wish to strike?"

Reynald lowered his goblet. "Not too soon. The king and Tiberius will be watching us closely. No. We wait until the time is right. For now, we must keep quiet and allow the leper to become comfortable."

"Riders approach the gates!"

The two men stood and walked to the edge of the balcony. Templar soldiers and other people rode into the castle. Reynald recognized his daughter and nodded to his servants to welcome her home.

"Lady Christine has reached home, I see," remarked Guy.

Reynald only walked towards the table.

"She is still unwed," continued Guy. "If you are seeking suitors, I would be glad to name a few."

The red-bearded man shook his head, sitting down. "I will deal with my daughter on my own, my lord."

"As you wish," he said, giving a bow. "I must depart now, unfortunately. I have a wife to return to."

He exited the balcony, leaving Reynald alone with his wine.

\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/

Christine dismounted, tired from riding so far and so hard. Sundown was near. She soon saw Guy making his way out to mount his own horse. The girl and her servants shared a few glances, knowing that his visit was most likely one of ill intent.

"Welcome home, my lady," greeted Guy. He gave a flourished bow. "But, alas, I must depart."

"Have a safe journey, my lord," responded Christine.

He mounted his steed and urged his men forward. She watched him leave; seeming to wait for confirmation that he did indeed depart from Kerak. Once he was out of sight, she sighed.

_I must go meet Father._

Christine walked up the stairs that led to the large balcony, of which was Reynald's favorite place to sit and watch the travelers pass by. When Joan was still living, she would often join him. She would sit beside him, giving a smile as the sun would set. It made Christine wonder if Reynald missed her mother even more than she thought.

He was there now, sitting and sipping wine. Slowly, his daughter walked forward with her hands clasped together.

"Father," she said.

He looked back at her, giving a small smile. "Back home, I see."

She nodded, retuning the smile. "Yes, Father."

Reynald leaned further back into his chair, as she slowly walked towards the other seat. "You must have some wine, Christine. It is from France. Guy was kind enough to bring some back for us."

She accepted the goblet that her father handed to her, but only took a small sip to appease him. Wine was an acquired taste, at least for her. She tried to avoid drinking it, if possible.

He looked out on Kerak, smiling. "Now, tell me about your visit in Jerusalem."

Christine cleared her throat. "Well… I was invited to the palace for dinner at the king's table."

"Ah, yes," he said, with remembrance. "Guy mentioned that. He seemed pleased that you accepted the invitation."

She only nodded. "It was… well, an experience."

"One learns to live with the rank, my dear," he responded, chuckling.

As he took a sip of wine, Christine swallowed, rubbing her hands together. "There was a man there. I had never seen him before. They said that he was the son of Godfrey-"

"Balian," interrupted Reynald. "Yes, he's Godfrey's son and now the Baron of Ibelin."

"I did not know that Godfrey had a son… or that he was killed.

Her father refilled his goblet. "The traitor was attacked and died in France. He had gone to bring his son back with him. By what I've been told, he had been with the daughter of a blacksmith, many years ago."

Christine grimaced. "And the son?"

"Lived on, I suppose," he answered, passively. "He was married. But then, when the wife had their child, it died. She then killed herself afterwards."

How terrible! The girl let out a shaky breath. This Balian had been through such horrible circumstances. Christine couldn't imagine what it would be like to lose a child and then a wife.

"Oh, my sympathizing daughter," sighed Reynald, gazing at her. "What am I to do with you?"

She glanced at him, noticing that his gaze was very contemplative. He leaned back in his chair again.

"Go now," he said, waving a hand. "I'm sure you need your rest."

She stood and gave a curtsy. "Yes, Father."

As she left, she couldn't help but wonder if Balian had reached Ibelin.

Author's Note; Comments, please!


	4. The Passing of Time

Balian made his way through the dusty ground that was considered "fertile" for crops. As he walked, the servants were digging holes, in order to search for water. They would need it for a plentiful harvest.

The land was perfect for him. It was dry and dusty, but that would be taken care of when they found the water. The inhabitants were pleasant and kind, wanting to learn more about their new baron.

Some wanted to learn too much.

Balian was no fool. He knew the affect he had on women. He was constantly being gawked or giggled at by the servant girls. They would peak in his chamber sometimes, when he was writing or waking from sleep. It was most unsettling. Some of the older women put a stop to it, thank heavens.

It was not that he hadn't thought of marrying. He had many times. There were plenty of young women around him that would gladly accept him. However, something would always stop him… perhaps the memories of his wife.

She was wonderful and perfect, so he had come to believe. Truly, they had lived well together and loved each other dearly. It felt as if his heart was torn in two, when she committed suicide.

No one could replace his first wife and he knew this. However, he also knew that he needed companionship. He needed a consort and, yes, a love.

He would watch and wait. Perhaps God, if He was even there, would place the woman he needed right in front of him.

Of course, that most likely wouldn't happen…

\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/

Christine smiled, watching the children run past her and down the hall. Aayliah's wedding had just taken place and she and Joshua were now man and wife. They looked so happy together, smiling and… well, kissing. They were newlyweds after all.

Her father had not attended the ceremony, as expected. He was on a ride, outside the walls of the city. Whether or not he was up to no good, she didn't know. She was not sure if she wanted to know either.

She adjusted the skirt of her plain, brown dress. Abigail had made it for her, as well as other dresses. The older woman had become a surrogate mother to her. She had been Joan's loyal servant, upon her arrival.

Abigail would often talk about the day that Joan had arrived. She was fifteen years of age and quite frightened. She had no inkling of what her new home would be like or how her husband would receive her. To her surprise, the Lord of Kerak fell in love with her, when she entered his gaze.

The thought was romantic, Christine had to admit. However, she also knew that this was not always the case.

She shook her head, breaking away from her thoughts. Her next stop would be to the beggar, sitting at the gate to the castle. Abram was his name. He was lame and his eyesight was quite poor. Every day, Christine would sit with him and talk.

He was dirty, yes. There was an odor about him, but she knew that he could not help it. No one seemed to pay attention to the old man. She even had to admit that his long, scraggly beard and frail form was truly unnerving. However, Christine saw a loving and kind person in him that no one else seemed to see.

She smiled, upon seeing him. He was leaning against the wall, his eyes distant.

"Greetings, Father Abram_,"_ she greeted, sitting beside him. She took his hand, in order for him to find her with his aged gaze.

"My Lady Christine," he said, a smiling forming. "Now, what is a beautiful maiden, like yourself, doing with a man of my age?"

She smiled, wryly. "I am not as young as I once was."

He chuckled. "Perhaps, but you lack the gray hair and other ailments of the old. I would hope not, at least."

"No, not yet," she admitted. "It will happen someday, though."

"Yes, but do not rush it, young one," he urged. He leaned towards her. "Besides, you will lose the many suitors that wish to whisk you away from this dreaded place."

"I have not seen many," said Christine.

"Oh, they are there," he assured. "They are only nervous about appearing before your eyes."

She only gave a weak smile, as he leaned back to his original spot, grimacing. The man was growing old, she knew. It truly would not be long until…

"Come, tell me of your travels," he said.

Christine explained everything in detail, wanting to visit with the old man with as much time possible. She told of her visit in Jerusalem, of her dinner in the palace and even Balian, who was the new Baron of Ibelin. Abram took it all in.

After she bid farewell, she made her way towards her room. However, Aaliyah stopped her.

"Mistress," she urged. "Your father! He's in one of his tempers! You must get to your room, quickly!"

Christine obeyed, knowing that he must have been in a most foul disposition, if the servant was frightened of him. Abigail was waiting in the chamber, as she made it in.

"What happened," asked the girl? "Why is he so upset?"

The older woman nodded towards her granddaughter. "Aaliyah."

When Christine turned back, she realized that the servant's eyes were watering. Her chin quivered a little, before a tear fell.

"I asked Lord Reynald for… permission to be sent to Kerak," she said. "When I did, he flew into a rage and asked why." A sob escaped. "I explained that… that Joshua had found work there and… and that I had to be with my husband." She had her head covered in her hands. "He has forbidden me to be with my husband!"

Christine's brows furrowed. She knew her father had a temper, but he would not be in such a rage, such as this over mere servants. Normally, he allowed them to go and come as they pleased. Something was wrong. Her father was not like this. Yes, there was something truly wrong.

"Aaliyah, I'm your mistress," said Christine, walking over to hug the woman. "Father had given all rights to me, whether to send you out or to keep you. It says so in contract. You can go and be with Joshua in Ibelin."

She pulled back, her eyes wide. "Mistress! I can't! He will be angry with you!"

"I have been through my father's wrath before, Aaliyah," she assured. "I will be fine. Besides, he will have cooled down before too long." She smiled, stepping back. "Well, go on. You'd better start packing."

The servant beamed, crying joyful tears. "Bless you, my lady. Bless you!"

She ran out the door then, shutting it behind her. Christine turned back to Abigail, to find the woman glowering at her.

"What? What is it?"

"You have not noticed, have you," asked the older woman.

"Noticed what?"

"Your father."

Christine's face was full of confusion. "What about Father?"

"My lady, ever since he returned from Jerusalem, he has become more miserable. Something troubles him, eats at his soul. I do not know what it is, but I do not like it. You should leave, for your own safety."

"Abigail," she said, shocked. "I cannot leave! No one would receive me and you know it. Besides, Father has always calmed down."

"I still do not like it, my lady. If I were you, I would keep my wits about me."

The old woman walked towards the door, but stopped as she turned the handle. "You are wrong that no one would receive you. Remember was Sir Godfrey told you?"

Christine paused for a moment, but then nodded. "Remember Ibelin."

The servant stood for several seconds and then left the Lady of Kerak to herself.

Author's Note; What do you think? Please comment!


	5. Welcome to Ibelin

Reynald drank down more wine, encouraging the alcohol to do its work. His sorrows needed to be drowned out, surely. This seemed to be the only way of doing it.

"My lord," asked a servant, nearby. "The men are wondering if-

"Out," ordered Reynald.

"But, my lord-

The lord threw an empty bottle towards the servant. "I said out!"

He obeyed, quickly running out the door. Reynald clumsily poured more wine into his goblet. His fingers shook, causing the drink to spill onto the table. He sat back down on his hard, cold chair. The silence of the dining hall was almost overwhelming. However, he welcomed it.

The physician had visited. It was then that Reynald received the news. His death would be sooner than he thought. His sickness was worsening. He was growing weak… too weak.

It would happen in less than a year.

Reynald growled, angrily. He threw another empty bottle against the wall. He couldn't be dying. He refused to accept it. And yet, he was becoming weak. His eyesight proved it.

"Very well," he murmured. "If these be my final days, I shall work to ensure that they will always remember Reynald de Chatillon."

\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/

Christine mounted her horse, making sure that her veil covered her face. Riding in the desert would be no entertainment, especially if one did not keep their face covered. Aaliyah was on a wagon with Joseph, hers and his belongings inside. A trusted guard, of whom Abigail approved of, would also be traveling. Their destination… Ibelin.

In truth, Christine did not have to go. She could have sent the document of freedom, given to Aaliyah. However, she felt concern for her servant and wanted to be sure that she would be in a suitable environment. Joseph seemed to know what he was doing, but she wanted to be sure.

She couldn't help but be curious about Ibelin's new baron, as well. He had been baron for the past week. She wondered how he was taking to his new rule. After all, he was far from home and a familiar ground. The desert planes of East were quite different from the green hills of France.

They moved slowly, in no real hurry. Ibelin was only an hour's ride, giving them plenty of time. Joseph urged his mule forward. The animal would be stubborn now and then, but would then obey his master, after the sting of the whip was applied.

Ibelin was soon in sight. Christine smiled, looking over at the young couple. Aaliyah was beaming, looking into the eyes of her husband. He whispered to her, causing her to giggle and then applied a kiss on her forehead. The red-haired girl couldn't help but feel an ache, deep inside, while watching the tender scene.

When they reached the "gates", of which were some stone ruins and homes, a guard stopped them. He stepped forward.

"State your name and business," he said.

Christine pulled back her veil. "I am Lady Christine of Kerak and am here for the transferring of my servant to Ibelin."

His face was filled with confusion and obvious suspicion. He then gave a slight nod.

"I shall speak with my lord," he stated.

Aaliyah looked over, nervously. "What if he won't want me here?"

She shook her head. "It would not matter if you were here or not. You are a free woman now."

The former servant smiled, weakly.

They waited for several more moments, when the guard returned with a sweaty, dirty man. Christine's eyes widened. This was Balian! She dropped her surprise, when he grew closer.

"My lord," said the guard, gesturing to her, "the Lady Christine of Kerak."

He spoke Kerak with distain. She tried to ignore it, although difficult. Balian's brow knitted.

"You travel alone," he questioned, looking at her one guard.

"I am not alone, as you can see, my lord," she assured. She nodded towards Aaliyah and Joseph. "I am here to escort my former servant to her new home, as well as to ensure that her transference is dealt with properly."

He studied her through perplexed eyes. "You did not have to trouble yourself by traveling all this way. I would have taken a letter."

Christine tried not to groan in frustration. "As her former mistress and as her friend, I insisted in aiding her, my lord. I wish only to ensure that she will be happy and safe here." She fought a sigh, pulling out the document and holding it out to him. "Here is the document, with my signature."

He seemed to take a moment to consider the document, before he stepped forward and took it from her. She leaned back on her horse.

"If you will pardon me, my lord," she said, moving her horse towards the wagon, "I remain with Aaliyah and her husband for a few mere hours. My presence will be swift, I assure you."

She urged her horse forward, as Joseph had the mule move towards the small community of houses. Christine glanced back, finding that the baron was watching her leave.

\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/

Balian kept his gaze on the young girl. He turned to his guard.

"She is the daughter of Lord Reynald," he asked.

The guard nodded, practically spitting out, "Yes, my lord. She resides in Kerak."

The baron eyed his guard, before turning his gaze towards the maiden. He then returned to the house, where he needed to sign the documents.

\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/

"There," said Aaliyah, setting the pot down. "That is the last of it."

Christine looked around the small house. It was bigger than a hut, but smaller than a house. It would do for a new couple, such as Aaliyah and Joseph.

"You did not have to help us unpack, my lady," said the former servant.

"I wasn't about to sit and watch you, if that's what you wanted me to do," laughed Christine. She stood, walking over to her. "I hope you and Joseph are happy here."

The woman's eyes watered, as she reached out and hugged her. "Visit us often, my lady. Every week… or when your father's temper becomes too great to bear."

She nodded, holding her tightly. "Thank you… for caring for me all those years. I know I can be a donkey, sometimes-

"Oh, nonsense," she said, pulling back. She sighed. "You are leaving, then?"

"Yes," she answered, walking to the door. "I do not want to overstay my welcome."

She gripped her horse's reigns, smiling at Aaliyah. "God bless you, Aaliyah."

"And you too, my lady."

Christine began to walk towards the entrance, holding her horse's reigns. It would be an hour's ride back to Kerak and she did not want to spend the few moments riding on a horse. She glanced out on the fields, seeing the workers digging large holes. Her brows furrowed. What were they doing?

"Lady Christine."

She turned to find Balian walking towards her. She waited, patiently, as he handed a document towards her.

"It is the documents for Aaliyah's freedom," he stated. "It bears my signature now."

The document was indeed signed. Christine looked at him, giving a slight smile.

"Thank you, my lord," she said. "I should go now."

As she mounted, the baron stepped forward, holding the horse's reins. "You need not leave so soon."

She shook her head. "I fear that I should, my lord, if not for your sake then the men's."

He followed her gaze towards his men, finding that they were giving her most unpleasant looks. Christine started to urge her horse forward, but he stopped her by gripping the reins tighter.

"My lady," he said, gently.

The way he said her title made her shiver. She looked down at him, finding that his gaze was quite sympathetic and his eyes gentle. Her heart beat faster and faster, finding herself being lost in the depths of his dark eyes. However, she broke herself from it. What was wrong with her?

"Please, do not leave," he urged, stepping forward. "Your presence is welcome here."

Again, she found herself looking towards the guards. A pang of fear was in her. She had never truly spent time with people who did not like her. Whenever the prospect of being with those who hated her father arose, she would either not attend that particular event or would not participate in any conversations at all.

Balian's one hand released the reins, lifting towards her. He gave a small, yet encouraging smile.

How or why, she did not know, but she found herself grasping his outstretched hand. As she began to dismount, he held her arms to aid her. She gripped his forearms, instinctively.

He was so strong. His arms were hard and so muscular. Then again, Christine had never held a grown man's arm before. She blushed, as he set her down.

Balian stepped back, gesturing towards his land. "Welcome to Ibelin."

Author's Note; So it begins. Please review!


End file.
